Here We Board The Roller Coaster Again
by KeitieKalopsia
Summary: It's over. All the action and sleepless nights and sitting on the edge of their seats. The Raira Trio is at last safe. But it wasn't meant to be that way. No matter how they avoid it, no matter how they delude themselves into thinking they're okay, they can't escape who they are and what they've done. Their lives will always lead them down a roller coaster again. (After Ketsu)
1. Prologue To A Bittersweet Tragedy

**You asked for it, so here's a full story! The original one-shot is called** _ **In Which Nothing At All Happens**_ **.**

 **Bittersweet Tragedy is by Melanie Martinez**

— **I don't own Durarara!**

* * *

They walked to Raira Academy together, just the three of them, no fourth soul to disrupt their harmony and drag them all into the darkness. They were safe now; they had been for months. None of them spoke of the time when they were rivals playing cat and mouse in a gang war. They had shared all of their secrets with one another and sworn never to let that kind of thing happen again.

So here they were now, walking side by side to school, living out the ordinary lives that they had finally achieved. Everything that had happened prior to this fresh start seemed to have never existed.

No one spoke of how Masaomi and Mikado had founded the Yellow Scarves and the Dollars. No one spoke of how their simple attempts to save each other had escalated into some sort of paradoxical rivalry. No one ever mentioned Anri's desperate attempts to calm the growing tension. No one ever mentioned Aoba, the one who had brought Mikado to the dark side of Ikebukuro the second time. No one said anything about how Masaomi left for a year with a girl, Saki, that he ultimately broke up with. No one said anything about how Mikado had pointed a gun to his head and tried to leave for good.

No, they were normal now. But really, they weren't.

It was honestly a miracle that they hadn't blown up yet. They were like three sticks of dynamite tied together with dry rope, just waiting for a spark, ready to blow at any second from the smallest trigger.

Their bond was not what they thought it was. It was not a friendship between a shy girl, a relentless flirt, and a socially awkward class representative. No, it was an alliance between a demon swordswoman, an ex-gang leader, and a suicidal danger addict. It always had been, and it still was.

* * *

They had persuaded her, as fellow Saika wielders, that she wasn't a parasite. That people kept her around because they did get something in return.

But what was she really contributing? Masaomi-kun lifted people's spirits and Mikado-kun kept him in line, but all she did was stand around and blush. Why did they still keep her around? Was it because she was 'ero-kawaii', as Masaomi-kun called her? Did they just need a third friend to complete their trio?

She thought she was over it, reassured she had a purpose, until that moment.

She had been determined to help, to keep the peace that they were drifting further and further away from. The instant she had heard the gunshot, she rushed to the site. She, Erika-san, and everyone else had gone to help. Of all people, she should have sensed something was wrong from the start, but she had failed.

She remembered it clearly **—** pushing open the door, holding her breath, desperately hoping, praying she had made it in time. She had been too late.

The black strands of shadows covering them like webs. What looked like some kind of modified gun strapped to the back of Mikado-kun's glove, aimed at his own head. Masaomi-kun lying on a bleeding leg, arm reaching out to save him. She would never forget that sight.

Utterly helpless, helpless, even with the dark power that resided within her, she'd been unable to do anything to save her closest friends.

In the end, Anri Sonohara was still just a parasite.

•••

In all accounts, he was grateful. Grateful that everything had settled down and there had been no casualties. He didn't know what he could have done if there were.

He was grateful that that bastard Izaya-san had at last calmed down, or at the very least, wasn't messing with them anymore. It was a relief to know that he was in control of his life again. He, Mikado, and Anri-chan… everything was the way it should be.

Even Aoba-kun was gone **—** outside of school, anyway. He and Aoba-kun had ended up in the same class after he went back to Raira, a grade behind. They still didn't get along, but the topic of their pasts in the Yellow Scarves and Blue Squares never came up.

Sometimes, he walked around Ikebukuro and gang activity still persisted. But after the chaos two and a half months ago, no new gangs were able to rise to the same level of power as his or the Blue Squares.

There had been rumors going around that the Dollars still existed, but he knew they couldn't be true; he secretly checked Mikado's laptop every once in a while. Just in case! Was it wrong of him to still be worried?

He'd been feeling something recently, like somehow, everything wasn't okay. Like everything around him was fake, from Mikado and Anri-chan's smiles to their weekly visits to Russia Sushi to his niche in an ordinary sixteen-year-old life. Everything eerily still and quiet…

Masaomi Kida was afraid it might be the calm before the storm.

•••

It was eating him up like a disease. A tumor in his brain that kept growing and growing, and he couldn't stop it, this desire for the extraordinary.

Even after he'd been hospitalized and his friends — not just Kida-kun and Sonohara-san, it was everyone — had been hurt, this corrupting desire never ceased. If anything, it had grown.

Living out an ordinary life again, with cherry blossoms and blue skies (and playing wingman while Kida-kun failed at chatting up girls), only made him realize all the more how much he yearned to be extraordinary.

Over the past two or so months, he had reflected on his life in the underbelly of Ikebukuro, and he'd come to the conclusion that something had always been missing. Especially when Kida-kun had left, he'd wanted to create a place for his two friends on the dark side of the city.

They'd all been there before, but never together. He wasn't satisfied with just Kuronuma-kun at his side, but staying with his friends right now meant having to live a normal life. As greedy and selfish as it may sound, it wasn't enough for him.

He wanted to have it all — he wanted to live an extraordinary life, he wanted all his friends with him along the way, and at some point while they were apart, he had begun wanting Kida-kun's heart as well.

Even though they were best friends. Even though they were both guys. Even though they had two completely different objectives in life.

That last 'even though' had to change. He would make sure of it. An extraordinary life would mean nothing without Masaomi at his side. There was just one clear thing to do.

Mikado Ryugamine was going to bring Masaomi back into the darkness for good.

* * *

Not far away, perched on the roof of the building just across the street from the oblivious trio, a man lowered his binoculars. A sly grin formed on his face. He could tell just from the looks in their eyes.

He wouldn't even need to lift a finger to light the fuse this time.

* * *

 **On a side note, I have slight headcanon that Mikado speaks formally most of the time, but becomes more informal when he turns 'dark'. Therefore, he will address people differently, such as how "Kida-kun" becomes "Masaomi".**

 **I will also make a courageous effort to update every 2 Fridays. Why so long, you ask? Because I don't want to promise a short period of time that could fall into irregular updates if I can't make it. In other words, better safe than sorry.**

 **Also, chapter titles will be songs. 3**

 **See you in 2 weeks!**


	2. Thanks For The Memories

**Thanks For The Memories is by Fall Out Boy**

— **I don't own Durarara!**

* * *

\- Masaomi

It had become routine by now. He wasn't being paranoid, was he, checking his best friend's laptop for anything suspicious every week? He couldn't have Mikado knowing about this, so Masaomi peeked in secret whenever he visited Mikado's apartment.

He was doing it again today, but this time it felt like something was off. Masaomi went through the desktop icons, search history, files **—** wait.

What was this? It looked like a transparent icon, nameless. It faded almost perfectly into the pixelated background on Mikado's desktop screen. Had it been here all along and he'd simply missed it, or was this created recently? He'd only just scanned the computer last weekend. Masaomi hesitantly clicked the icon, hoping his friend wouldn't look up from his history essay too soon.

It turned out to be a second file folder, consisting mainly of… anime? Mikado wasn't a big anime fan like Erika-san, and he had no reason to hide it in a secret folder, so why? It wasn't like there was any _Boku no Pico_ -esque stuff in there. Masaomi peeked at the files under "Recent" one by one.

 _Mirai Nikki Openings_ , _Kuroshitsuji Doujinshi_ (now that was interesting), _Durarara! Clips_ (Masaomi had never heard of that anime before), _Baccano! Episodes_ —

It wasn't Baccano.

Masaomi was taken to the Dollars website through the folder, which held a single link. He knew it. He'd been right to suspect Mikado, but he never thought through what to do if he ever actually found anything. Should he delete the file? But that wouldn't change anything and Mikado would know he'd been there. He couldn't just leave it be. Who knew what could happen, how much trouble could start up again….

And yet, he knew his words alone wouldn't convince him. He had no idea how anyone could grow so attached, even addicted, to a website like that. He needed a way to keep his best friend safe from this city permanently.

But there was nothing Masaomi could do about it right now. He closed the Dollars tab and took a deep breath. He had no choice but to talk to _him_ again.

* * *

Masaomi took a deep breath and knocked on the metal door. He couldn't believe he was here, at that office he swore he'd never so much as walk by again after everything was over.

Yet here he was, standing before that fatal door **—** again. To protect his friends **—** again. About to face that chilling soulless grin **—** again.

The secretary, Namie-san, let Masaomi in with somewhat of a flat expression.

"Good luck. He's in a good mood today." With that, she returned to sorting the bookshelf.

Masaomi strengthened his resolve during the short walk through the entrance of the office. He knew what he'd be greeted with. A smirk, maybe a "welcome back", and the remarks to make him question why he was doing what he was.

He wouldn't react. He wouldn't. Not this time.

As Masaomi entered the office, he noticed an Othello board set on the coffee table showcasing only two game pieces **—** a black and a white king. As usual, the board didn't match the pawns. The kings would ignore traditional rules, moving in accord with the people they represented, and Masaomi was afraid he may already know who those people were.

He didn't realize he'd been staring until a dreadfully familiar voice shook him out of his thoughts.

"The game just started. Nobody else has joined yet~"

Masaomi kept a straight face. _Don't panic._

Izaya-san stood at the other end of the table, in that black shirt he always wore inside. No other words needed to be exchanged for Masaomi to know that he was right.

Two kings. Two gang leaders. It had already begun, from the moment he stepped through the door **—** no, from the moment he even thought to check Mikado's computer. Izaya-san would have his fun the Ikebukuro's game again. All he could do now was try to control the damage.

He turned to face the grinning informant. "I don't need you to explain what that board represents. I came here for one thing and one thing only."

"Trying to avoid ridicule by declaring your mission outright? Just what I'd expect from you, Masaomi-kun," Izaya-san taunted, "But you of all people should know that one favor can turn into many more."

Masaomi caught himself before he could flinch. He couldn't let a simple comment on his time with Saki shake him up. He was better than that. _Remember what you're here for._

"Cut the crap, Izaya-san! Just give me the information, I'll pay you, and after that, I'll never have to see your ugly face again."

"You wound me~" The man faked a hurt expression. "And when you haven't even told me what you want yet! Kids these days, so rude~" He sighed sarcastically.

 _Oh, right_ , Masaomi realized. He hadn't stated his business yet. _Well, here goes._

"I want the password to join the Dollars."

The insane glint in Izaya-san's eyes made him regret coming here in the first place. He had to remind himself that this was for the sake of nearly everyone he knew. _Let's just get this over with._

"It's not a password that you need, Masaomi- _kun_. It's an invitation. Now why would such a secretive website use a password that could so easily be posted online?"

But that didn't make sense. If everyone in the Dollars had an invitation directly from Mikado, then it would just be like a single chatroom.

"Of course, that invitation can be forwarded," continued the informant, "so that's why there are so many people in the Dollars."

Oh. So he wouldn't have to squeeze it out of Mikado after all. Not that he would've don't that, of course.

"So you can forward it to me, can't you?" Masaomi rushed. He didn't want to stay here any longer than he had to.

"Alas," Izaya-san stepped over to him, almost like predator stalking prey, "nothing in this world comes free. And if it does, it's probably a scam~"

Masaomi reached into the messenger bag he'd been carrying.

"How much do you **—** "

"I'm not concerned with money. Instead, I want you to hold onto something for me."

 _Hold onto something?_ What could he possibly have that he couldn't keep around him? A nuclear missile?

It was almost as if the informant read his mind. "You see, if I kept it with me, it'd be found all too easily," the bastard dragged on, "so I'm giving it to you for safekeeping. The original owner of it already got it back once, so I don't wish to let go of it a second time…." That probably meant whatever he was hiding had been stolen. Izaya-san went over to retrieve the mystery item from some secret cabinet in the shelf.

Masaomi knew he'd be stuck now. Like the smug man had said earlier, one thing would inevitably lead to many others. Now that he had another solid connection to the information broker, he knew that he'd end up coming back for help of some kind eventually, maybe later when danger heated up again. No use denying it now. He knew it would happen, all of it, like an endless roller coaster of doom and destruction, and he wanted to take himself and Mikado off of it as soon as possible.

When Izaya-san returned, Masaomi suddenly doubted whether he would, or even could, do this anymore, for he was holding something far worse than a nuclear missile.

"Namie-san brought this back with her. Naturally, Seiji-kun and Mika-chan followed like lost puppies~"

With that, the informant handed Masaomi a glass container encasing a beautiful dullahan's head.

* * *

 **Wow, only the 2** **nd** **update and I've already failed you! No matter, I shouldn't have any issues anymore now that the virus has been removed from my computer. I can assure you that the rest of the chapters should be uploaded on time. Ta-ta! (=^w^=)**


	3. It's Time

**It's Time is by Imagine Dragons**

— **I don't own Durarara!**

* * *

\- Mikado

As he watched his best friend of over six years leave Orihara-san's office with a suspicious-looking cloth bag, Mikado couldn't help but feel a little excited. It looked like he'd been right. There was no way the information broker would simply ask for money this time. Instead, it seemed he had entrusted him with something.

What did he give him? Where would he keep it? How long would it be until someone else found out? Mikado doubted Kida-kun could survive long keeping such a secret.

Did Kida-kun go to the office because of him? Out of all the questions that bombarded his head, this one he could answer. He was glad he let his friend find out about the Dollars after he caught him checking his computer last week.

Once he was sure the blond was far enough away, Mikado stepped out of the convenience store he'd been watching him from. Deciding to walk home so as to conserve money by not paying a bus or taxi fare, he began the long trek back to his apartment.

He could take his time; his homework for the weekend was finished. Heck, his homework for the next five days was already done, to make time for anything he might need to… take care of.

Suddenly, Mikado wondered if Kida-kun had finished his work. He'd feel very guilty if his plans caused his dear friend to fall behind in his classes. Kida-kun was no longer in the student council (In fact, he had joined the Art Club, only to find Kuronuma-kun there, too!), but that didn't mean he could just slack off in school!

Shaking his head, Mikado realized he'd arrived back in Ikebukuro. The flashing lights, the speeding cars, the bustling people all with stories to tell **—** he loved it here.

He loved it even more when he spotted Heiwajima-san. Come to think of it, the debt collector down the sidewalk still didn't know about the return of a certain informant in Shinjuku, did he? He had to think of something, quick.

His mouth forming a small, discreet smile, Mikado broke into a run. As he ran, he imagined Izaya-san moving a new piece onto his game board. To Izaya-san, three pieces had probably entered the game: Mikado, Masaomi, and now Shizuo-san (Was he missing anyone? Was Anri-san already in?). But to Mikado, there were four players including himself. He wanted the informant to play a round too.

Mikado ran until he crashed into Shizuo-san.

"H-Heiwajima-san! U-Uh, I'm so sorry, I was just…" Mikado caught his breath and smiled nervously as always. "I was just looking for my friend. I kinda… lost him…"

"The Yellow Bandana kid?" Shizuo-san looked down and asked.

He forced a sheepish smile. _Does he mean the Yellow Scarves?_ Mikado wasn't sure how he could get that wrong, seeing how well-known the gang had been. Then again, Anri-san once mentioned hearing him say he sucked at names.

"Y-Yeah, Masaomi from the Yellow Scarves," Mikado tried to explain, "you see, he just came back from Shinjuku and we agreed to meet somewhere and now I can't find him and he was meeting some really important guy and—" Shizuo-san cut him off.

"This really important guy, what was his name?"

Mikado gulped, pretending to be worried. He had acted perfectly.

"I-Izay—"

"THAT FLEA!" he was gone before Mikado could blink.

It was amazing how the man could so easily forget everything, just drop it all instantly to chase someone else. If they didn't hate each other, it would actually be romantic. Was Karisawa-san rubbing off on him?

Unless Orihara-san was stalking someone right now, he was in for a surprise. Either way, Heiwajima-san would get involved now that he knew his mortal enemy was using a "kid" as his puppet.

* * *

"... And that's how I spent my amazing, passionate evening yesterday!"

Mikado sighed. He should have expected as much from Kida-kun, who was currently winking at Sonohara-san on the side. Any utterance of a question would result in a dramatic speech following the tale of his magnificent lovey-dovey escapades.

"So what you're saying is that Sonohara-san went with you to Sunshine 60 to help you recruit beautiful young women into your _underage_ harem?" Mikado said flatly, doubting every word that came from his mouth (partly because he had witnessed his actual evening and partly because no sane person would believe that). "Sonohara-san?" He decided to check with the schoolgirl just for fun.

The girl smiled softly and shook her head. "I was learning a new tiramisu recipe at home."

"Oh!" Came Mikado's reply, "I wasn't- I wasn't interrogating you or anything! Did it sound that way?" He blushed fiercely.

"No, not at all!" Sonohara-san frantically but gently shook her head. "I just thought I should state my business."

'State her business'? _Oh no, I really did sound like a police officer!_ But if she'd actually just wanted to share her new recipe… Had he come off as disinterested? Uhh... what to say now…

"Look at you two lovebirds, making each other blush!" Kida-kun abruptly interrupted. Perfect timing. "You're not about to leave me for him, are you, my dear ero-ero Anri-chan?" The bright-eyed boy always knew how to read the room well.

Sonohara-san shook her head. "You don't have to worry about us," she reassured him with a smile as they split off into different corridors.

Mikado walked into his and Sonohara-san's classroom and discreetly pulled out his phone. They sat at opposite ends of the room, so he didn't have to worry about her catching him. Arriving ten minutes early every day suddenly began have its perks.

He grinned a little as he checked Dollars website. So that had been Masaomi's move. He was cleverer and more resourceful than people gave him credit for, as evidenced by the words on his flip-phone screen. A worthy opponent in this game Mikado had envisioned and begun for himself.  
He glanced at the fateful words on the screen one last time before closing his phone.

 **1 New Member: NoMoreSharks444**

He chuckled as the first class of the day began.


	4. Happy Little Pill

**Happy Little Pill is by Troye Sivan**

— **I don't own Durarara!**

* * *

\- Masaomi

Masaomi leaned against the side of his bed, shoulders slumped, staring pointlessly at the ceiling. Turning his head to the narrow bookshelf against the wall, he wondered how it had come to this. Why was he doing all this just for Mikado? He dreaded knowing that behind that inconspicuous bookshelf, locked within a classic rectangular safe embedded in the wall, was the Black Rider's enchanting head.

It was Wednesday. He'd had it for three and a half days now. What if the Rider came for him? Could it sense where its head was? No, if it did, he'd already be dead and the head gone. Unless it was waiting? But for what? Did Izaya-san know the Black Rider? Did he know whether Masaomi was in danger? Would he slip Mikado information on what he or Masaomi were doing? He knew he wouldn't hesitate to if it benefitted him.

Mikado. It used to be Saki-chan who he tried to save; now it was Mikado. He remembered what that puppet master informant had said to him at that hospital over a year ago.

 _"She will be your god."_ He'd been right. Saki-chan had been his god until several months ago, pulling him along on a string in "Izaya-sama's" name. Now it was Mikado who'd taken the reins from his former goddess and would, unless Masaomi could do anything about it, inevitably lead him off a steep cliff. Masaomi knew that that soft smile would someday end up pushing him over a ravine and straight into Hell, farther than even Saki-chan would have gone.

He was terrified.

Nothing was happening in the Dollars chat, and that made it all the worse. The anxiety, the paranoia, the dread was crushing him like a lead weight in his chest. What would happen next? Would he be prepared? How bad would it be?

Just then, a knock sounded from the door. Masaomi stood up, put on a smile, and looked through the peephole.

There stood Anri-chan, eyes so wide one would've thought they'd been taped open. Hesitantly, he opened the door.

"What's up, Anri-chan? You look like you've seen a ghost! Then again, we live in Ikebukuro, so it wouldn't come as much of a surprise… Ha-ha…"

He was faking a laugh and they both knew it. It was an effort to make things seem normal, not that it worked.

"Y-Yeah, it's practically normal already…" Anri-chan stumbled into the room and crumpled to the ground beside a short wooden table. "I-I-"

"Anri-chan, take a deep breath," Masaomi instructed, sitting down next to her, "Keep going whenever you're ready; take your time."

It was silent for a moment. Masaomi could tell from her downcast expression that he was not going to like what he heard.

Anri-chan exhaled. "I heard… I saw Mikado-san talking to… talking to Kuronuma-kun just now," she gasped, by that old abandoned building — the one a few blocks down from Russia Sushi? The thing is, they… they were holding shark masks."

"… Oh." That was all he could say. Masaomi couldn't say he had expected anything less. It was no surprise that with the reemergence of the Dollars would also come the reemergence of the Blue Squares. They were probably in cahoots with each other now, and as usual, he had no means of stopping any of it.

"Do you… Are you… You'll need some time to process it, won't you?" Anri-chan gave an unsure smile.

 _A sincere smile, so similar, yet so different from Mikado's_ , Masaomi thought out of the blue.

"N-No, I'm fine," he said, "I just- I guess I already saw it coming; I'm just not sure how to take it now that it's happened." He paused. "Did you hear what they said?"

"No…" He saw a flash of — Was that guilt? — across her face, but it might've just been his imagination. Shaken, the bespectacled girl rose from the floor. "I should go now."

"Yeah…" Masaomi sighed, looking down, "I'll call you if anything new happens."

"If I ever adopt a child," Anri-chan joked, "I'll make sure they don't grow up in the city." She closed the door behind her.

That conversation had failed to end on a high note, to say the least.

Masaomi stared down at the wooden table. Why was he like this? Why did the slightest sign of misfortune send him spiraling so easily down a pit of depression? Why was he already so… so absorbed in all of this when anything had yet to even happen? Was it because he'd experienced it all before and knew what was going to happen?

"ARGH!" He slammed his fist on the table and got up. On his way to the door, he grabbed his keys from a hook on the wall. He might as well go walk.

* * *

As Masaomi treaded through the busy streets, he felt the clouds pass over him, heard the shuffling of feet, the chattering of voices, stepped into a puddle of water, of oil, of toxic waste for all he knew. He felt a gaze on his back, whether from a stranger or a stalker, he didn't know.

He looked to his right. There was a woman with hair like Anri-chan's, wearing a pink yukata. Could she be a cosplayer? A waitress at a themed café? Something else entirely?

He looked to his left. An albino in some sort of navy blue uniform speed-walked by yelling something along the lines of "Sakura, run! We're late!" Yep, they were cosplaying.

To his right again was something far more ordinary: two policemen checking their watches and looking around. Could they be waiting to change shifts? Eager to get home to their wives? Did they have families? Did they have a good relationship with their relatives? Were they worried about their spouses being unfaithful?

 _Is this how Izaya-san sees the world?_ Masaomi wondered. Did he view everyone as a story waiting to be told? _Best not to think about it_ , he decided.

But he couldn't _not_ think about it — about how everyone's eyes stared forward, all thinking different things, holding such contrasting opinions, recipes for chaos… and yet, on the outside, they all looked the same. They could've been friends, lovers, coworkers, classmates, but what did they really think; what did they really know about each other? With everyone holding such different perspectives, who could get along despite all that? What did it matter if someone was happy on the outside when they could've been dying on the inside?

Like he and Mikado. In the end, all this thoughts came to Mikado.

Masaomi shook his head. He wasn't thinking straight. His best friend was manipulating him so that he only had one choice — one effective choice — left. What was he doing, caving in? But this was what he had to do, and he was sure Mikado knew it too.

Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out his cellphone. Opened it. Went to his contacts. Clicked the first person. Typed the message. Sent it. Second person. Message. Send. Third person. Message. Send. Fourth, message, send. Fifth, message, send. Sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth…

He didn't want to think about it, about how he'd been made to do it again. No, he didn't want to think about anything right now.

His parents praised him for being responsible enough to live on his own in the city. He believed himself the opposite. After all, if he'd been responsible, wouldn't be bringing back the Yellow Scarves yet another time.

Checking the Dollars chat one last time and finding still nothing, Masaomi closed his flip-phone. He turned around and headed back to his apartment.

 _Nothing eventful happened today_ , he tried to convince himself, _Nothing, nothing, nothing. It'll be nothing compared to what will happen in the near future. No, today was uneventful, so prepare yourself._

Masaomi looked around himself at the surrounding crowds. He pitied them, yet never envied them more.

* * *

The man placed more pieces on the board. They stood not behind, but around the White King. They were smaller — pawns, perhaps — but they trapped their King. He had to command them, lest they command him. Additionally, a Black Queen and its small militia stood to serve their Black King, bringing the Blue Squares into the picture as well.

Izaya sat back in his couch. The Yellow Scarves army was back, but was their General ready to lead them?

* * *

Somewhere else, not too far away, another boy laid down a game board for the first time. It was an old checkers board that he'd brought with him when he moved to the city, but never got around to using. He only had chess and checkers pieces, nothing fancy, but they would do.

He placed a White King on the board for his friend, Anri-chan as his White Bishop, and Shizuo-san as his White Queen — though Masaomi wouldn't know it yet. He chuckled at the thought of the frightening debt-collector as a fancy queen.

He then placed himself on the board as the Black King, and his Black Bishop would be Aoba-kun. Some checkers pieces behind the two of them and around White King Masaomi represented their gangs. White Pawns he placed around Anri-chan the Bishop as her Saika Army.

Lastly, he placed a Black Queen on the board. After all, he'd heard from Namie-san that Izaya-san could be more high-maintenance than a girl sometimes.

* * *

 **A gold medal to whoever caught the giant reference I dropped! See ya later! 0w0 ~~~**


	5. Thumbs

**Thumbs is by Sabrina Carpenter**

— **I don't own Durarara!**

* * *

\- Izaya

Wednesday, eight o'clock in the evening. He stared down at the Othello board before him. City lights streamed through the wall-length window to his left. The taste of bitter coffee filled his mouth, and Namie-san's irritated grumbling could be heard from a room away. Dusk had passed over an hour ago, and the dark sky left Izaya feeling a little creative.  
On the Othello squares lay two kings and a queen, a small array of pawns scattered around them. Two othello pieces sat to the side; Shinra-kun and Celty-dono tried to intervene as little as possible.

 _Anri Sonohara should also be playing by now_ , Izaya thought, _and her Saika will make her Queen._

Anri-chan would be the reluctant White Queen, too afraid to make even a single move. Intent on keeping everyone safe, yet too scared of herself to use her most powerful assets, she would seldom stray from her current square next to White King Masaomi despite the endless possibilities within her reach.

 _And Shizu-chan, what would he be?_

The informant's long-time nemesis had been awfully strange lately. Though the two of them frequently found themselves brawling in the streets of Ikebukuro, Izaya hadn't seen the infamous debt collector since their usual fight several days prior. However, the blond man had far from gone quiet.

Every day for the past three days, Izaya would come home to his current apartment to find a broken-down door, an overall trashed living room, holes punched through the walls, and Namie-san shivering in some corner. Repairs weren't a bother, but he wasn't sure how much more he could take before he decided to sue for property damage.

He wondered, though…

Of all the furniture scattered in plain sight, his hard drive and monitor never sported a scratch, and his game board on the table was always left meticulously untouched. Namie-san refused to tell him what he'd been doing, amused simply by the fact that the great informant was actually stumped.

A brute such as Shizu-chan was hard enough to read, but this was entirely uncalled for! Izaya had no idea what was running through the monster's mind, and he made it his mission to figure it out.

"Namie-san!" he called, "Cancel my one-thirty plans tomorrow!" He took the silence as a 'yes.'

Looking down at the board once more, Izaya decided it needed a finishing touch. He glanced at the unused pieces to the side — black and white rooks, bishops, knights, a few spare pawns, and some more Othello pieces. Which would suit his new player best?

In the end, he settled on a Black Bishop; limited power, but slanted and fearless; never direct. His new pawn stood just outside the chaos, as if watching but never taking part.

Izaya leaned back and took in his masterpiece. "You're old enough to ride the roller coaster now, Kasuka-kun! I hope you have fun~"

"Shut up," groaned his secretary from the hallway.

* * *

At approximately one-fifteen the next afternoon, Izaya twirled out the door after bidding a joyous farewell to Namie-san. He hurried out of the building and down the street as if o a tight schedule. Once past a corner, he slowed to a walk and entered a café. Sitting down at a table with a nice cup of tea, he decided he could rest for a while.

Today was the day he would catch Shizu-chan mid house invasion. It'd been too long since they'd talked, and he wanted to know what the protozoan was up to. While he doubted the man had the brain capacity to plan elaborate schemes, it never hurt to be safe— except when it did.

After all, Shizu-chan always broke in whenever Izaya was out, bringing him to two possibilities: 1) Shizu-chan was stalking him, which he didn't have the time of day to do, or 2) Shizu-chan had intimidated the information out of somebody, a far more likely conclusion.

Chances were that the faux blond had gotten Izaya's schedule from Namie-san each time he came to the apartment, and that led to another revelation: the first time breaking in while Izaya had been out informant-ing had likely been an accident. Shizu-chan had probably meant to confront him for whatever reason and entered to find an apartment empty save for one shell-shocked secretary.

All that begged the question: Why did Izaya's dear arch nemesis keep returning to his office every time he left, deliberately now? What happened, what changed? To Izaya, this was a perfect opportunity to better understand and take down the enemy who had eluded his puppet strings for nearly a decade.

Izaya checked his smartphone; it was one-forty-one. Leaving the café, he skipped all the way back to his apartment building and climbed to the top floor. Strangely enough, he didn't hear any cracking windows or crashing chairs.

Cautiously, he approached the gap where the front door used to stand. Still no sound. If Shizu-chan truly was able to pick up his scent, he'd be throwing furniture already.

Stepping in, Izaya made a mental note to buy a new fridge to replace the one currently lodged in the wall just right of him. He strode through the short corridor and was for once taken aback by what he saw.

There amidst the array of sad, decimated furniture sat Shizu-chan on the only still-standing couch, bent over the Othello game board, seeming truly intrigued.

Shizuo Heiwajima got up to leave and, _smiling_ at Izaya as if issuing a challenge, simply said, " I fixed it for you. Kasuka isn't a bishop."

With that, he proceeded to walk past Izaya and out the door, leaving the other utterly stunned.

"Wait," This would be good, Izaya decided, "Shizu-chan should have my keys if he's going to be coming in here so often~"

He threw a spare key at him.

"Thanks," Shizu-chan said curtly, catching it and leaving.

That was, perhaps, the first civil conversation the two had ever had with each other.

Izaya walked over to the board to wee what his home invader had done with the board. As it turned out, only one thing had changed: Black Bishop Kasuka was now Black Knight Kasuka.

 _Well, if that's how he wants it_ , Izaya thought. Shizu-chan seemed to think that Kasuka-kun was capable of making a move that wasn't bound by rules; he'd see about that.

But now there existed one more crucial thing: his protozoan might be an intelligent life form after all. If it was so, then that meant he was trying to uncover and interfere with his plans, and by an extent, try to access his computer rather than just destroy it. This was already far more than Izaya had ever expected from him.

"Is he gone yet?" Namie-san squeaked from behind his desk.

* * *

Izaya stared out the window at the skyscrapers illuminating the night sky. He was an emperor, and the humans below were his subjects; the city was his empire, and it was being threatened. Something or someone had gained the ability to disrupt his reign and bring about its fall. It was all in the mind, he knew; if one were to just expand their horizons and think as he did the could steal his glass throne or, worse yet, shatter it altogether. Somehow, though, he knew that whoever achieved it would never consider obliterating such a power. They would want it for themselves.

But who could it be? Celty-dono? Despite being a monstrous dullahan, she'd deluded herself into acting too kindhearted and human for that to happen. Perhaps Chikage Rokujo was trying to expand their territory? No, that wasn't big enough. Namie-san wouldn't plot against him for fear of her brother's safety, and Anri-chan didn't have the willpower to. It could be that Masaomi-kun was finally fed up with Izaya's antics — for, what, the fifteenth time now? He could never have been called a threat, and still wasn't. Mikado-kun was a possibility; he might come into the shadows again. If he was the issue, then Aoba-kun would also get dragged into it. Neither of them could operate without the other, and neither of them would be a surprise.

Then there was Shizu-chan again.

Izaya simply couldn't get his mind off of the man after what happened earlier that day. The ex-bartender's actions and attitude had been so out of character that Izaya had the urge to call Shinra-kun and ask if his rival had been diagnosed with a brain tumor recently. Chances were that the blond beast was the source of the burning premonition that had plagued him as of late. For the first time in his life as an informant, Izaya wasn't sure who should be strapping on a seat belt: himself or the populace of his subjects?

* * *

"I knew I was right to make Shizuo-san a Queen," the boy smiled to himself, "He's smarter than I thought, smart enough to go against Izaya-san if he's angry enough… I just need to get him to think and plan."

He'd been right to go to Celty-san, but he needed more connections. As a simple high school student, he was at a bit of a disadvantage. He wasn't closely affiliated with the yakuza or any particularly influential associations. Heck, he didn't even have a job yet!

Then it occurred to him: someone who wouldn't take a side unless they stood to benefit, and doing the favor needed to get them on his side was something he could actually manage. The Raira student supposed he'd be paying a visit to Erika-san after school the next day, provided Masaomi was staying in the Art Club — they met every Friday — and didn't intend to hang out right after dismissal.

Mikado adjusted the chess pieces so the two Queens, Shizuo-san and Izaya-san, faced each other in what looked like an epic royal staring contest from across the board. No, they weren't face-to-face just yet.

He then turned off his lamp and made a mental note to get a job without his parents knowing about it.

* * *

 **Whoops, I was deceased for half a year, so sorry. (^_^") But I'm back now!**

 **BTW, if I make any grammatical, spelling, honorific, or any other type of mistake, feel free to let me know! See you all next chapter!**


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